Mochi Stealing Boyfriend

You know the smallness of my old apartment from before United States, right? Constrictive in the extreme of tiny! It was okay for me mostly, because I'm a small girl. (Thin walls though. Neighbors always complaining about having a very active vagina next door!) Small apartment also means a small refrigerator is mandatory. (Or no refrigerator if you eat all food right from a market in its freshness. But then there's no ability to snack on ice cream after so much sex makes you starvational.)

Also because of an apartment this miniature: not so much cabinet space. So the rule of Akane was, one box of soft mochis in a cabinet, one box open and leftovers in refrigerator, and one box of ice cream mochis in freezer box of refrigerator. This means when shopping, almost always I would buy two mochi boxes -- soft mochis for cabinet, ice cream mochis for freezer. It's enough for a daily enjoyment of mochis, almost for a whole week if you're a small Japanese girl with polite-level appetite. One soft mochi after lunch, one ice cream mochi after dinner, and six in a box means six days before two mochi boxes are gone.

Remember though! There's a spare soft mochi box in a cabinet. Three extra days of mochis if desperate!

(Confession, Readers ... almost never were there six days between shoppings for mochis. "Just one more!" the tummy of Akane would say at lunch. Or, "So hungry from sexing my dodger boyfriend! It's justified to eat two ice cream mochis at bedtime." Three or four mochis, not so justified ... but sometimes it could happen, against all reasonability.)

One day, I am shopping for mochis near my apartment. (A whole shopping trip just for mochis? Probably you don't believe it -- and you shouldn't because I also shopped for a few things besides. Dumplings, bananas, vibrator batteries, lube, and possibly some other things as well. This was more than two years ago, so how exact do you need me to be? I didn't keep a list of all my shopping needs, only in case I would want someday to tell blog readers the exact purchases I made on a shopping day very like so many other shopping days. But definitely there were mochis, and almost always I would buy dumplings and bananas. So those are probable. The lube and vibrator batteries = definite. You'll see why about the lube and I know the batteries because this was a no-boyfriend, sex-hungry shopping trip.)

So! My basket is on one arm. Dumplings, bananas, batteries, lube, and mochis. Maybe some additional items, I don't know. Then, time to check out!

The register has a line, but not too excessive with grocery hogs buying cart loads of everything in the store. Just an old lady with a part-full cart, a teenage girl buying candy, and then, in front of me ... the most thievery dodger!

He didn't look burglesome just then. Actually very cute. Nice hair, an office outfit with sharp tie and shoes. Because it takes an old lady a long time to count her payment to the clerk, he looks around and notices me. I see him smile at my exceptional sexiness, so I smile also. It's a smile of, "I wouldn't mind sexing with you, you know?" But also a smile of, "Akane, you're very good to buy batteries and lube so that you can go home and do so much masturbation thinking of this cute boy and his smile!"

Then ... he peeps at my basket! Obviously, to go from the face of Akane to the basket of Akane, his eyes must pass the breasts of Akane. Aha! I think, He's about to stare and drool from my voluptuous breastage! Staring = the guarantee of his wanting to sex with me.

But, no staring. Readers, his eyes kept going down and down to the basket of my purchases, and there is where he did his peeping and widened his eyes.

"You are so prepared to enjoy my company!" he said. "This is how a girl makes everything just right for a man to come in."

Almost, I gasped at his expression of extremely naughty. Right here in a grocery line, he discusses coming in me! Where a candy-buying teenager and a very slow-counting old lady can hear everything!

(Honestly, Readers  if I had less sex-hunger just then, other meanings of his words might have entered my brain.)

"Do you live very close?" he asks me. "I could walk you to your apartment ... especially if you would allow my experience of such an enticing purchase with you!"

He raises one hand to show his umbrella, because it is raining outside. (Sex-hungry, mochi-hungry Akane forgot to bring hers for shopping, since only dark clouds and no rain yet filled the air when I left to shop.)

"I don't want you to become wet all alone," he explains.

The predicament! You know I only want to have sex with a boyfriend, of course. But this umbrella basket-peeper ... so presumative! Can I accept him as boyfriend material when his first discussion is coming in me? But also, I am so sex-hungry.

Obviously, since it's raining, I must share his umbrella back to my apartment. How to spend such a walk so close under a small umbrella and not have overwhelming famishment of the vagina by the time we reach my home???

We purchase our items and go out into the rain together. What ogling of my items while he awaited the finish of my checkout!

"Here," he says, holding the umbrella generously over me and reaching out with his one-bag-holding hand. "Let me carry your bag too!"

"Okay," I say. "Very gentlemanly of you!"

"Of course!" he says. "Manners are important ... although it's only honest to admit to you -- I have impatience at unwrapping tasties from their containment."

I consider it, but nothing occurs to me for a reply to his further brazening. At least he thinks I will be tasty!

The rain is excessive, and his umbrella, not so large. I squeeze very close and put my arm through his. Warmer and dryer, naturally, but also a squish of my breast to his bicep.

"You know," I tell him, "a girl feels much more comfortable to share her pleasures with a boyfriend than a stranger."

His eyes crunch down from confusion. "Well ... that's interesting, I guess."

So overt in his desires! He can't even pretend to think boyfriending me is optional. It's hopeless, and we are very near my apartment. He is lucky I am so malnourished of sex lately or the offense of Akane would spurn him!

But at my door, my lips open and expel a sudden insisting: "Look, to come in, you must be my boyfriend. It's a rule for me. We can break up when it's time for you to go, but for Akane's apartment, only boyfriends."

"Um," he says, eyes crunching down again. "Okay?"

"Good!" I unlock my door and we hurry in from the rain.

Shoes off right away, of course -- it's Japan. Then I stand up and take my bag to the kitchen area. Mostly it can sit on the counter, but ice cream mochis must go right in the freezer ... no good leaving them out to melt while we are sexing!

He eyes my store items confusedly as I hurry to the cabinet to retrieve the futon.

"Aren't you going to ...?"

"Oh no," I tell him, unfolding the futon. Of course when he is so unromantical, other women must get their lube out for starting things. "I'm very ready without it!"

His eyes are very wide and blinking when I start to undress. For such a hurry-er, he stands and stares very long before removing any clothes himself ... but the naked breasts of Akane remind him of his urgency!

While he undresses also, I appropriately prepare the sheets and blankets for the futon. But at the same time, I'm thinking, should I really be doing it? (Obviously a futon you are about to sex on needs sheeting; I mean I wondered, should I really be about to sex with a boyfriend when his boyfriendness is such a masquerade to us both?) There's no time for changing my mind, though, because I look up and see that he is mostly naked and his penis ... so firm with attraction for me!

It's a pretty good-looking penis, I'm thinking. Not so large, but not a miniature one either. It's straight out and definitely very hard.

Okay, he's certainly good enough as a boyfriend for sexing, then.

I get on my knees on the futon and urge him over with a crooking finger. He swallows very loud and makes steps of hesitation toward me.

"Come on!" I say. "No more loud swallowing from you -- that's for me to do."

He ignores the no-swallowing command and swallows again, but there's more speed in his steps and now he's stepping onto the futon with me, so I grab his behind and pull him closer. Now I can lunge my lips all the way onto his erection, straight to the base.

Swallow, swallow, swallow -- I can feel his penis head in my throat.

"Oh!" he says. "Oh, how can you fit so much penis in such a small and pretty mouth? OH!"

It's an annoying question because I'm gobbling so far onto his manhood. Difficult to answer questions with throat filled by dick and lips all the way down at the crotch end. Also, what a pointless kind of asking! Obviously it's by opening wide and gulping in a vigorous way. Who puzzles about the method when a girl's mouth is sloshing spit along every centimeter of penis?

Time for vagina, I think. If he wants to ask questions of stupidly curious sorts, better make sure I can answer them.

So I ungulp his penis. And what do you think he does?

Even with his wet erection barely out of my mouth, he asks, "What? Why are you stopping?"

Readers, it's worrying me that his questions are so ridiculous.

"Because you are asking questions," I tell him. "How can a girl answer questions with her mouth impaled by a penis? Lie down so I can sex you."

More loud swallowing! But it's okay if he obeys, and in this case there's no delay.

As soon as his back is to the futon and his penis correctly indicates my ceiling overhead, it's time for me to crawl in place and begin the vagina-ing of his erection. I find I am glad for his bothersome questions, because the starvation of my pussy has such magnitude as soon as I unmouthed his penis.

"OH!" he says when I find his penis-end with the lips of vagina and sit immediately all the way to his groin. "OH! This is a very fine vagina!"

"Yes," I tell him. "You must prepare to enjoy it now, because we are going to sex until you shoot immense volumes of cream into me."

So much swallowing by this grocery-store boyfriend! It seems to be his biggest habit. (Readers, the word of literature for this is "foreshadowing." You know it, I'm certain. All the swallowing by this dodger! I should have suspected.) But he stops it when I grind him with my genitals and squeeze slippery vagina muscles all along his cock.

"Oh! Ah! Oooh!" He makes eyes and mouth of wide amazement at me. "How! How are you so sexual and pleasing? It's beyond my dreams!"

"I'm a girl with talent," I tell him, sexing faster and faster along his manhood. "My belly growls with so much hunger for cream, I have to get good at sex to satisfy it."

"Oh!" he says. "I'm definitely going to cream inside your belly -- slow down, or my balls will be squirting their sperm into you much too soon!"

"I'm too sex hungry," I respond. "If you can't restrain your balls from spurting, that just means we'll have to sex more as soon as you recover."

Even wider, his eyes and mouth!

"Ohhhhh ... "

My hips are rolling very fast to hump his penis with sliding of great vigor. My sex-starved vagina drools with slippery juice up and down his decent-sized erection. I'm so hungry for the feel of cream going into me, it's even okay I'm not so close to orgasms.

"Uu ... uuu ... uuAHH!" he cries out. His face is very red, with eyes rolling up beneath their lids.

"YES!" I shout at him. "Give me cream!"

Inside my vagina -- so much pumping and cumming! Hot, spouting cream splashes exceptionally far into my belly!

The throb of groin-buried penis = an eruption of joy for Akane. It's such good throbbing, I almost think I am orgasming too.

"Uhhmmmmm ... " he moans beneath my panting shape. I perspire onto him from so much sexual exertion. "Your vagina ... ohhh ... "

So: there is hot sweaty lying together with my body still and slippery on top of his, and his penis of expended cream turning softish in my vagina. Lots of panting from us both.

Then he says, "It's very exercising, having sex with you. I'm thinking this will inspire my appetite."

"Yes!" I say, eagerly misunderstanding his very hinty tone. "Good sex is always spawning the appetite for more sex!"

"Well," he says, "yes ... but also the appetite for food. All the exercising and perspiring -- very contributory to hunger."

Readers, when saying this, he looks straight over at my kitchen area toward the bag of groceries with mochis in it!

"Hey!" I say. "That's not the area you're supposed to be looking at. Your eyes should have a feast of the many sights my body provides! Actual eating is a bad idea when we need to sex again soon. Exerting the muscles makes digestion a discomfort."

He looks at me a little disappointedly, so I lift up a little, allowing view of my breasts and our perfectly adjacent crotches where my vagina has not yet let go of his cock. I grind a little to entice his gaze that direction. Fortunately, my grinding and the extreme sexiness of my body guaranteed victory over his looks of covetousness at those mochis.

Soon, he is hard again. Soon after that, we are sexing again.

I'm no longer starved for cream; that means my sexing and cock-riding are not so urgent and quick. I can take more time to enjoy the slow and firm slides of this grocery boyfriend's firm erectness within me. It's enjoyable to him too, obviously -- soon his mouth is open and drooling and his hands roam my breasts and waist with fervor.

"Uh ..." he says. "Oh ... you're very talented at this! Hnn, hnn ... oooh ..."

"I'm a very sex-hungry girl," I tell him, moving forward, and back, and forward, and back, with careful squeezing and relaxing of my vagina muscles, as well as deliberately gliding my belly against his. "So I get exceptional amounts of practice."

"It's very effective!" he says. Then his hands clutch my behind, trying to encourage me to greater speed, and also giving leverage for him to thrust hard up into my body with his erection. It makes the sex even better for me ... but I can tell, it's an improvement for his pleasure also. Lots of groaning and gasping. "Ghhh ... ah -- yes -- hmmmm ..."

"Don't get too fast!" I command him. He is pumping very quick beneath me. "I didn't orgasm the first time, you know."

"Oh," he says. "But ... it's so ... oooh ... uh-huh ... uh ..."

I can tell my orgasm isn't too far away. But Readers  instead of slowing down, this dodger starts sexing even faster!

"Uh! Uh! Oh, the wonder of fucking your vagina! UH!"

"Hey, don't get too ..."

"UH! UH! UH! OHHHHH --"

Suddenly, more creaming inside me. The hot splashes excite me greatly ... only not so much as the first time, because I expected to orgasm this time. It's a mixture of happy cream-belly appreciation and the disappointment of what, no orgasm?

The throbs of his ejaculating penis dissipate.

His face becomes very slack, and his eyes stay closed for a little. When he opens them, I think my expression tells him, Hey, you were supposed to make this girlfriend have her climax.

His shoulders make a weak shrugging movement. "Sorry I couldn't last longer," he says. "My hunger of exertion must be making me less durable."

I sigh and roll off of him.

"Okay," I tell him, lying on my back and reaching to feel if there's cream leaking from my vagina. "Go and eat something for strength! I will wait here and try to get myself close to orgasming so it's not such a burden for you to sex me into cumming."

It's a little disappointing for him to leap up so excited and dash to the kitchen. But there's definitely a lot of cream in me. I put my fingers in to feel it and rub it around my groin and clitoris. At least he's a creamer with reliable volume, I think, teasing out his semen to play with it.

All my attention is on my bounty of cream, so I'm really not noticing him over in the kitchen -- just making streamers of cream between my fingers and sucking them when they become too coated in sperm for me to resist.

Pretty tasty cream, I think. It's a condolence for the no orgasming, I suppose.

That reminds me I'm supposed to be getting ready to orgasm as soon as he comes back for more sexing. So I masturbate with his cream for lube and think about how it felt to have a hot, spewing fountain of cream leap up into my belly from his cock.

Cream-lube + masturbating + visions of cum-spouts inside me = definitely efficient at getting ready to orgasm.

Finally, he's back. I notice his cheeks are still full and chewing.

"Wow-ml," he says around his mouthful. "Did I really shoot so much cream into you?"

"Yes," I say. "It's a very good part one of your boyfriend sex duty, but now it's time for part two."

He had a so limp penis when arriving at the futon. Very disappointing to my expectations. But I see it deciding that a cream-covered masturbating girlfriend is worth firming up for.

I am on my back with legs relaxed to a convenient angle. Between my feet stands this still-chewing boyfriend, with penis lifting and straightening and turning extreme with stiffness.

It's very attractive to see.

"Sex time," I tell him. My legs spread wider and more inviting. I remove the masturbating fingers from my vagina and point them at it. My other hand points at his erection. "That goes in here!"

He swallows the last of what is in his mouth and says, "Okay!"

Very quickly, this dodger is on top of me, penising into my insides and putting a tongue of great enthusiasm into my mouth. I groan with pleasure of his penetration ... but also ... Is that mochis I'm tasting? There's definitely no taste of dumplings or bananas. Concentrate on sexing, Akane! Time for mochis later!

He's pretty good at intercourse from on top -- knows how to make a good angle for pressure on the clitoris, and has an okay rhythm. Plus, there is so much excitement and enjoyment on his face.

"Mm! Mm!" he says into my mouth while continuing his thrusting and kissing. "Mm! Mm-hmm!"

There's an advantage to letting the man do most of the work, of course. He can make movements of surprising me, and it's less laborious. Also, it's good to feel the power of boyfriend lust -- strength and urgentness and the weight of excellent muscles. This guy's body is pretty good. Nice shoulders. He's doing a powerful job at stuffing his penis inside me.

I notice him speeding up more, though. I'd warn him not to squirt his cream too quickly, but his tongue is too inserted in my mouth. So instead I catch my ankles up against his bottom behind him to hold our groins very tight together. I move my spine with a similar rhythm to his pumping, which lets me keep him from too big and quick of stroking into my vagina.

It's feeling very good! I can tell, orgasm on the way.

Yes, finally! Three sexings is more than I normally take for climax -- especially when I have not had sex in so long. Ah, good, his hardness ... pushing me up and up into a heaven of sex-pleasure ... I'm going to orgasm!

But then.

Readers!

He burps into my mouth.

It's a burp entirely of mochis! No sign of banana taste or dumplings at all! I even think ... Are there two flavors of mochis there?!?

"Sorry," he says, gasping and making very fast thrusts again. (The burp surprised me so much, I lost my control of ankle-squeezing.) "I guess you were right about my digestion. Mmm! Oh! But don't worry ... no more burping ... only ... cream-spurting ..."

I can feel his penis swelling up within my vagina! The dodger is about to cum in me again!

"Stop!" I demand. He becomes frozen with surprise. "Get on your back so I can ride you some more."

"But ..."

I give a very serious girlfriend-must-orgasm growl.

"Okay, yes ..." he says. He does what I tell him to.

"No thrusting!" I tell him while maneuvering onto his erection. He groans very loud when I sit down on it. "I'm a patient girlfriend mostly, but it's time for my orgasm. Don't spoil it!"

He nods and bites his lip with a look of worrisome.

My hips and vagina move with angry hunger for orgasm. Very quickly, it's getting pretty good. Except ...

Do I see a speck of white on his lips? Is it powdered sugar from a mochi?

So much anger!

I have to close my eyes and think only about the deep and stiff shape of penis in my vagina. Otherwise, I'll be looking to see if there's mochi sugar on his lips.

Ride, Akane! Grind with your vagina! Feel the firm swell of penis within you! The hard of his shaft! The round of his bulb finding the just-right spot for orgasm making!

He is lying very still but also moaning very loud.

Work quickly, vagina of Akane! Reach your orgasm! This time his creaming will make an after-orgasm dessert! Almost, this makes me think of mochis again, but I'm lucky for once. Humming, trembling nerves of pleasure inside me catch fire! It's happening!

My vagina becomes an explosion of light and electrical jolting! It makes a squeal burst from my throat!

"ee--eee--eeeeEEE!!!"

"OHHH!" he groans.

Lightning crackles in my body! So much throbbing! And then the hot splashes of cream as his penis erupts also!

At last the voice of Akane can express her satiation -- "Ahhhhh!"

There's a lot of whimpering and moans from under me too. His cock takes a long time to finish with gushing me full of cream. I collapse on him and feel waves of our orgasms subsiding. We pant and sweat. I can feel slippery semen leaking from me around his penis.

"So tiring, but so good!" he says.

"Yes," I agree.

I roll off him and sigh, dripping from sweat and cream leakage.

We lie together for a while, and even fall asleep.

The next morning, I wake up halfway, full of fuzzy sleep and dreams of cream-filled satisfaction. There's noise in my apartment, so I let one eye peep open. No one is beside me on the futon.

"I have work!" he says in an alarmed voice. I hear him moving and rushing around, but I don't want to get up yet, because I am very content from after-sex sleeping. "I must go to my job!"

"Okay," I say in a sleepy voice. I fall asleep again ... maybe hearing him say something about seeing me again that night? Or later in the week? But before I can answer, it's hours later and I'm truly waking up.

Pretty okay overall, I think. I sit up and put on my t-shirt from the day before. There is a large amount of yawning. Finally I stand up, thinking at least there are mochis for breakfast.

But, Readers.

When I go to the kitchen counter, what do I find?

Empty mochi boxes!

Not one, which would be bad.

Not two, which would be an extremity of rudeness.

No, there are three empty boxes! He even retrieved the ice-cream one from the freezer and ate them all!

He did come back that night, but I ordered him to errand his way to the grocery store and bring back replacement mochis. Once he did, I had very angry sex with him.

There were quite a few hours of angry sex, in fact. Then we split a box of mochis and afterwards had more sex, not quite so angry. There were enough orgasms I didn't have to break up with him right away for being a mochi thief.

But the next morning, it was the same! Or almost the same. I didn't even wake up that time, because of so much sex the night before. When I did, though -- more empty mochi boxes!

Do you think it could be worse? Yes! Because when he shopped for replacement mochis, he brought a bag with an excessive number of boxes ... five or six at least. I thought there were extra boxes to make up for his mochi-hogging behavior.

But he took the bag with him and left only three empty boxes!

He was my boyfriend for a week, and this pattern kept going. Even when I bought extra mochis on my own and hid them high in a cabinet ... the next morning, no mochis!

To make this even worse, he got much better at sexing me by the end of that week. Very reliable at making me orgasm.

But I couldn't take his mochi stealing, so I broke up with him.

Sometimes after that, I would see him in the same grocery store. He would always frown and look away.

Partly, I think it was a reflex of embarrassed.

But also maybe it was because if I had mochis in my basket, I would always put it behind me to keep my mochis secure from his eyes and mochi-burgling fingers.